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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23167195">vibe (i like how he rocks)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatsjustHoneyDewbabe/pseuds/thatsjustHoneyDewbabe'>thatsjustHoneyDewbabe</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Voltron: Legendary Defender</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Age Difference, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Brief mention of Past Abuse, Cock Warming, First Time, Lingerie, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Spanking, Teacher-Student Relationship, baby when i throw it back, if i speed it up CAN U HANDLE THAT?, is it fast enough, is it fat enough, keith: if i bakk it up, very brief - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 13:09:30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Underage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,956</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23167195</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatsjustHoneyDewbabe/pseuds/thatsjustHoneyDewbabe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Remember, Keith," Lance had said, grabbing his shoulders firmly before Keith ventured towards the bus to go home. "You have a pretty face and long legs, so make sure you use them."</p>
<p>"What about my ass?" Keith had asked, fear-ridden. "Is it fat enough to pull this off?"</p>
<p>"It's fat enough if you back it up, okay?" Lance had reassured loudly; his face was as red as a cherry. "For the love of God, stop making me be gay by thinking about how your boy ass would look in slutty lingerie."</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Keith/Shiro (Voltron)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>160</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Sheithlentines 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>vibe (i like how he rocks)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Thank you so so so so so SO SO SO SO SO much to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/celestialriptide/works">Ryn</a>, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/punkrockmanpain/pseuds/idontgiveaquiznak">T</a> and <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cas_tellations/pseuds/Cas_tellations">Cas</a>!!!</p>
<p>I hope you enjoy my Valentine!! Thank you so much for your patience.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The new English teacher at Keith's school — the one to replace the cranky old teacher — was comparable to a fucking Adonis. Takashi Shirogane could be mistaken for a Greek sculpture from The Met and get away with it without anyone batting an eye.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But Mr. Shirogane had worn a gold band on his ring finger for roughly a month after the start of the fall semester. Keith remembers the exact day rumors spread like wildfire after someone rallied together the students by writing on YikYak that he wasn't wearing a ring. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was like siccing starving hounds on a thick piece of meat.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>At first, Keith didn't understand the infatuation surrounding his teacher. Shirogane was admittedly one of the most beautiful things Keith had ever seen, akin to a hot red sunset at the end of a blazing summer day in the Arizona desert. His teacher looked fun to lick and Keith desperately wanted to — but Shiro was popular and Keith had a reputation to uphold of hating anything popular.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"He successfully pulled away from all of his teacher's attempts to befriend him in class, but then ran into Mr. Shirogane at the store. His teacher was drowning in grocery bags, and Keith might be fighting against the establishment, but he wasn't an asshole." </span>
  <span> Keith relieved him of the heaviest bags and carried them to his Kia Soul, piling them into the backseat with a soft grunt. Shirogane grinned and thanked him like Keith just helped him perform an open heart transplant. He patted his back and then ruffled his hair. Over the top and a touch embarrassing, Keith’s blush came from out of nowhere. He couldn’t recall the last time someone gushed over something he did, nor the last time someone gave him physical affection. And for once Keith hadn't tensed up. The total opposite. Under Shirogane's arms, he turned lax and almost melted right then and there.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>If you were Ted Bundy, I'd let you fucking kidnap me and murder me</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Keith thought to himself as Shirogane tried to converse with him about mundane school news that Keith couldn't bring himself to care about; not when Shirogane's standing before him looking like </span>
  <em>
    <span>that. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"See you on Monday, Keith," Shirogane said, squeezing his shoulder good-naturedly before heading to his driver’s seat. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But Keith didn't see him on Monday after all; he wasn't able to physically see in general after his foster father gave him two black eyes for swatting his nasty hands away and talking back. It wasn't until Wednesday morning that he was able to get out of bed and get ready for school.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That was the beginning of the hellish end. For once luck was on his side and his foster father slipped up carelessly and to this day, Keith can't recall much of the aftermath — he remembers his teacher’s concerns and his classmates’ horrified faces. He woke up on Saturday in Shirogane's guest bedroom, his things in garbage bags in the corner of the room.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They weren’t close yet, but his teacher insisted right away on Keith calling him Shiro. After shakily rubbing one out over fantasizing about licking his teacher's washboard abs, Keith’s fantasies shifted to living in domestic bliss with his teacher after he graduated high school. Shiro hadn't tried to replace his father or act as a pitying figure. He was just Shiro. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Right now before his junior year, his birth mother has found him, and in one short week, he's going to be moving to California - the place that she calls home.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>This is his only chance to finally let Shiro take what he deserves to have, hold and consume. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Only Lance knows about his crush on his teacher.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"He's almost forty—"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"He just turned forty," Keith corrects him, flipping through a raunchy lingerie catalog. He stops on a page and opens the sharpie in his hand with his teeth to circle a model with black ink.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Which one is that?" Lance asks. Keith lifts it to reveal a model wearing a one-piece with modest boyshorts and a see-through top. Bright red.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lance's expression turns dramatically grim. "Has gay twitter turned you into a puritan too?" </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Keith fights back the urge to roll the magazine up and smack him on the head with it. The glare he gives Lance as a response is enough.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I just don't think it's spicy enough," he argues as Keith huffs. “At least go with one — give me that.” He snags the magazine from Keith’s hand and Keith squawks.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck you, Lance,” he spits while Lance also takes the sharpie and skims through the catalog.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Mr. Shirogane doesn’t want some boy scout — he wants you in something slutty. If he wants you, that is.” Lance circles an outfit and shows it to Keith. It’s literally the same design; the only difference is the boy shorts have been cut into a thong. He wants Shiro to touch him and maybe choke him a little — but the thought of showing that much skin makes him nervous.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Just do it,” Lance cuts through his self-doubting train of thought. “Order this one.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There are two problems. Keith needs the clothes to be here the day after tomorrow and he only has around 30 dollars to his name.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He finds a cheap knock off on Amazon Prime — it strangely comes in one size, but he doesn’t have any other options available unless he wants to opt to dress like a maid or a schoolgirl. But he doesn’t wish for either — he wants Shiro to fuck him as just Keith. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>-</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Two days pass.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe that moron was on to something, Keith thinks while posing in front of the mirror in his room. When he ripped the lingerie out of the box it was shipped in, the first thing he felt about it was that it was underwhelming.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>On him, however, it’s night and day, and he’s never worn something so revealing before. There are obvious flaws with it as well. Nothing that's free size and on Amazon for less than twenty dollars could compare to what he wears in his fantasy.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It's tight, tight everywhere. Free size his ass. The see-through halter top is the only thing that gives him room to breathe- but unfortunately, the lack of breasts doesn’t keep it supported. It hugs his waist with an iron grip, and the bottom that's fitted bikini-style can barely contain his bits. As he spins a few times in the vanity in his room, Keith notes that at least the cheap fabric makes his ass look nice.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He thinks.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It looks terrible idk what to do</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he messages Lance a short while later.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>garter belt and stockings my dude</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Lance sends him back, with a link to another amazon prime product that has 24-hour delivery.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As it turns out, that is precisely what salvages the outfit and helps his features stand out after the new things arrive. Keith twirls in the vanity mirror again and feels motivated to conquer and finally tell his teacher his sincere, real feelings. He wants Shiro to fall apart — he wants to be the reason why Shiro falls apart.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His mother will be arriving on Sunday; the possibility of seeing her again and baring a neck littered with hickies rules out anything happening on Saturday. There’s no way to make Saturday work, and he can’t show up to classes, where Shiro and his classmates can see, throughout the week sporting them either. Friday is the only day that works.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Shiro stays after school on some Fridays for last-minute meetings and for once, Keith feels grateful while catching the bus home. It gives him a golden opportunity to get ready and put everything on, then try not to psyche himself out thinking about how this is never going to work. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Shiro is too good for someone like him, and Keith knows what his ex-husband and his ex-fiance both look like; he’s the opposite of them both, with a smaller frame and a face identical to his mother’s.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Remember, Keith,” Lance had said, grabbing his shoulders firmly before Keith ventured towards the bus to go home. “You have a pretty face and long legs, so make sure you use them.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"What about my ass?" Keith had asked, fear-ridden. "Is it fat enough to pull this off?"</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"It's better than his ex-husband's...?" Lance had noted while he studied Keith’s ass, eyes squinted in thought. The hair on the back of Keith's neck stood up.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Curtis had almost no junk in his trunk.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He is doomed. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"It's fat enough if you back it up, okay?" Lance had reassured loudly; his face was as red as an apple. "For the love of God, stop making me be gay by thinking about how your boy ass would look in slutty lingerie."</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>My ass is fat</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Keith keeps repeating to himself as he starts taking off his clothes to fit the tight lingerie and accessories on. It’s a confidence booster. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He’s never done anything like this before, though. His body takes one of his fingers alright, but as Keith adds more lubricant to his hand to try and prep well enough for Shiro, the second finger drags and burns. Shiro gets home before Keith finishes and nearly walks in on him in the bathroom. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe that would have been easier, Keith thinks faintly, his heart still beating after body slamming against the bathroom door to keep Shiro out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shiro is sitting on the sofa, mindlessly scrolling through his phone. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Nice</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Keith thinks. He’s watched enough raunchy porn in his life to know where this can and should be going. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Except Keith blows it right off the bat after stepping out of the bathroom — he trips over a laptop cord, smacking his knees against the carpet floor. The carpet helps cushion the fall, but nothing can cushion his embarrassment. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Shiro is as white as a sheet.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Shiro,” he greets him with forced casualness. Oh God, he notices, his kneecaps have slight rug burn on both of them.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh… Hey,” Shiro awkwardly says back. “Hey, Keith. Hey. Hi.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you...” Keith gets up on his feet, “like this?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Shiro’s eyes do rake over him — but for only a moment. It still sends chills down Keith’s spine.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Like what?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>This,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” he motions and then spins. Shiro coughs, sounds like he’s near </span>
  <em>
    <span>choking</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and his fingers dig into the jeans he’s wearing. “I…I picked it out specifically.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“For?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You. Duh.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“...okay...”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Keith doesn't get the reaction he imagined he'd get. Shiro doesn't passionately reach for him as he does in his fever dreams. Should he have jumped out of a cake like a bold stripper? Instead, Shiro stands there in the middle of the living room. Keith's face burns, and with each second that sinks in, any self-confidence he has starts to deflate like a sad balloon. His confidence is a sad balloon; Keith is the clown holding the balloon. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Shiro clears his throat and begins to cross the room and close the distance between them. Keith, for once in his life, dreads Shiro approaching and wraps his arms around himself, looking down at the floor in shame. His face burns red with humiliation from being immediately rejected.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Keith," Shiro carefully starts to say. "Look at me." </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Keith shakes his head. With his prosthetic hand, Shiro ruffles through some of Keith’s hair to encourage its unruliness. It slides down from his hair to his chin.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I said, look at me."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The authority in his tone has Keith looking up instantly to notice that, maybe this isn’t as one-sided as he thought it had been. Keith gets lost in how dark his teacher's eyes look and the stark redness in his cheeks that makes his scar give off the appearance of an expensive highlighter. Shiro is always breathtaking to look at and this time it sends Keith into a trance. Shiro slides his thumb up to Keith’s mouth and Keith presses a gentle kiss to it without thinking.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m afraid I don’t know what to say right now,” Shiro says with a soft smile. “You’ve left me speechless.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That’s how Keith always feels towards his teacher.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t have to say anything,” Keith shakily tries to reassure him. “I just.. I want you to touch me.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Keith—”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You can never hurt me,” Keith interrupts, sincere. You know I've been hurt worse before."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Shiro sucks in a breath at the reminder.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Shiro, still visibly unsure, reaches his shaky hands out and rests them on Keith's slim waist. Keith has to suck a breath in and hold a moan back as Shiro squeezes a little and his fingers touch together. He looks at Keith’s face, studying his reaction. When Keith nods to encourage Shiro to keep touching him, Shiro sighs with a moony expression and </span>
  <span>leans forward into what Keith is expecting to be a heated, biting kiss </span>
  <span>as he closes his eyes and waits expectantly for Shiro’s hot mouth to meet his.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Instead, Shiro leans forward and presses a chaste kiss to Keith's forehead. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Timing is crucial now and Keith takes a gamble — he peels Shiro's hands off of his waist and slides them down further, setting them at his hips and — thank fuck — </span>
  <span>Shiro squeezes at them and pulls, rolling his hips flush with Keith's.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I want you," Keith says unabashedly, losing his fear after becoming aware of the possibility that Shiro wants this just as much, "so much. So much."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Fuck," Shiro whispers to himself, ruined. Keith aggressively slides his teacher’s large hands down more to cup his ass firmly. Shiro squeezes his ass hard and a long, pathetic moan slips from Keith's mouth. Unsure of where he should put his hands, he rolls onto his tip-toes and slings his arms around Shiro's neck. His insecurities set in further at how exposed he feels. No one has ever touched him like this — he slides his face in the space between Shiro's neck and collarbone.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Are you sure you want this?" He hears Shiro ask quietly. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Keith nods his head enthusiastically, hard. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes—" he gasps as Shiro gropes his member and cups it in his hand, "—more than anything. I've never wanted something more than this before." Shiro takes his hand away and Keith whines.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"For me to fuck you?" Shiro asks in disbelief. Exasperated, Keith desperately tries to grind against Shiro’s thigh, desperate to get that friction back.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Keith nods even harder, slightly panting with dark eyes. "For you to make me feel good in every way. You've made me feel like — like I can do anything. Anything. And I'm leaving you so soon—" He inhales to try and regain his composure as his eyes begin to water. "I’m in love with you,” he confesses, chest becoming lighter.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Shiro groans and ducks his head and Keith takes it as his one and only chance to start undressing Shiro from the waist down, making quick work of his belt as Shiro notices and starts sputtering.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Too slow,” Keith complains like a brat. “Hurry up — you can’t fuck me with the belt on—”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Mid-sentence, Shiro reaches his hand out and smacks at Keith’s ass, hard enough for Keith to freeze in place and let out an obscene moan as the red mark from his palm starts showing up against his pale skin. Keith curses, leaving him open-mouthed from shock and unbearably hard.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Couch,” Shiro barks. “Now.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Keith doesn’t have to be told twice. He scrambles over to it and lays down on his stomach, lifting his hips to present like he’s in heat.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re going to kill me,” Shiro comments from behind, sounding gutted. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hit me again,” Keith outright begs and gets another slap on his ass; he hears Shiro struggle with his belt again the sound alone makes him rock back. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Shiro’s right behind him, hard cock pressed against Keith’s ass. Keith feels the cold metallic zipper of Shiro’s pants and aggressively rocks his hips back. They have all night, and there’s no rush. </span>
  <span>The way that Shiro's undoing his pants but not removing them entirely like he can't wait to fuck into Keith, has Keith panting.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Please, Shiro,” he begs, and gasps when Shiro shifts his lingerie and inserts a finger inside. There’s no drag, and as Keith rocks his hips back, his greedy virgin ass takes all of it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you already—?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yep. Prepped myself,” Keith confirms, smug. Shiro adds a second digit and starts making a scissoring motion inside of Keith. Keith shudders, helpless. “I didn’t want to wait.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck.</span>
  </em>
  <span>" Shiro's hand behind him stalls, fingers falling still where they're buried inside. Keith moves, hips pressing back to try and regain the feeling of those long fingers moving inside him. Shiro's free hand comes down hard against his ass, jolting a ragged gasp from Keith, then he's pressing him down and slowly pulling his fingers away. "Patience, baby." </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Keith shudders as he feels Shiro's slick fingers slide against his skin before pulling away entirely. He buries his face in the inspirational throw pillow Shiro always keeps on the couch when he feels the scrape of Shiro's nails against his ass cheek, spreading him open. Shiro shifts behind him, and then his breath catches in the back of his throat as he feels the head of Shiro's cock start to press against his entrance. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Shiro's hand slides up to Keith's lower back, holding him down and steady. Keith feels him lean down, then a wet kiss against the side of his neck. "Relax for me, Keith." </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Keith takes a deep breath, and tries to nudge his hips back against Shiro, eager for the teasing to end. The hand against his back presses him down harder, and then Shiro's hips press forward. Keith squeezes his eyes closed, choking back a moan as he revels in the feeling of Shiro's cock pushing into him. Shiro's thicker than even Keith expected, stretching him open inch by burning inch as Shiro starts fucking into him slowly, rolling his hips and pressing Keith's impatience.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“God baby—” Shiro’s voice is hoarse and dark, Keith hadn’t heard him like this yet. ”These clothes—”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Keith has used some toys and his fingers but nothing could prepare for the real thing. The stretch isn’t unbearable nor unwanted, but it’s damn near overwhelming as Shiro starts fucking his cock further into him in agonizingly slow increments while complimenting and praising Keith. At first, he’s beyond irritated and huffs, but then he catches on to just how…big Shiro is.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You okay, baby?” Shiro asks Keith after he’s more than halfway inside. His voice is strained from having to stop himself to slow down to a snail’s pace for Keith’s sake. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Vigorously, Keith nods. He rocks his hips back as an experiment. It helps him adjust to Shiro’s size easier. He sees Shiro brush his hands over the lingerie, studying it. Keith downright purrs, sated. “Do I look good?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Instead of saying yes, Shiro thrusts forward again, harder, and his cock hits and drags against Keith’s prostate and Keith arches his back and moans, trembling. He cries out Shiro’s name when Shiro smacks his ass again, this time with what feels like the intent of bruising him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You feel so good, Shiro,” Keith pants as Shiro drapes over him and starts nipping at his neck.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Wish I could bend you over my desk,” Shiro growls. Keith whines in response, which only eggs him on further. He rocks harder into Keith until he's finally, finally fully sheathed inside of him. The fullness and the satisfaction makes Keith’s legs shake, and shake, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>shake</span>
  </em>
  <span> from the overstimulation of it all.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I almost bought a schoolgirl outfit,” Keith admits, reaching to stroke his own needy cock, causing his hips to stutter from the touch. This won't last long, Keith notes to himself, because nothing this good and this fast can last long. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Maybe next time," Shiro groans, his fingers digging into Keith's hips hard enough to bruise. Keith nods frantically, spurred to stroke himself faster at the thought of there being a next time. Shiro’s long, deep thrusts switch to a punishing pace causing Keith to mewl and cry out until he's choking on the words “</span>
  <em>
    <span>harder</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” “</span>
  <em>
    <span>faster</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” and “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Shiro</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Fuck — baby, Keith, I’m not going to last much longer.” Keith shudders, and a beat later Shiro's voice washes over him, hoarse, “You’re so tight.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Keith shakes beneath him, his hips moving back against Shiro's in a desperate and ungraceful pattern. He can feel the pressure building low in his groin, and each of Shiro's trusts rakes against his prostate, sending him higher and making him feel wound up tight, ready to burst. His hands fist into the cushions as he tries to hold on, arms shaking with tension as he cries out. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Shiro,” he gasps, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Shiro</span>
  </em>
  <span>, don't stop." Shiro's grip on his hips tightens, pulling him back roughly to meet each thrust with bruising force. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"That's it, baby," Shiro whispers, curling close behind Keith. Keith can feel the warm pants of Shiro's breath against his neck, can hear the sounds of their skin colliding, and it's too much. It's too much. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p><span>"Don't, </span><em><span>ngh</span></em><span>, don't stop Shiro, please. Please, </span><em><span>please</span></em><span>,”</span> <span>Keith chants, choking on the words until he reaches his breaking point and the tension building in him snaps like a rubber band, a scream ripping its way out of his throat as he cums. It's the most intense orgasm he's ever experienced, his vision going white as his body jerks. He feels disconnected, registering only the way Shiro pounds against him once, twice, three more times before stilling above him. Keith, oversensitive, feels the way Shiro's cock twitches inside him as he's filled, warmth spreading inside. </span></p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He blinks himself back to awareness as Shiro spreads warm kisses across his neck and shoulders. He can feel tremors still working through his limbs, can feel the way Shiro still shakes against him as Shiro whispers into his skin, "Perfect, you're beautiful. You're so good, Keith, you did so well." </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Keith almost feels like purring, warm and sated. A soft smile pulling at his cheeks at Shiro's whispered praise. Shiro moves behind him, pushing himself up. Keith shivers at the feeling of strong hands running across his back before Shiro makes to pull away. Keith's eyes open, panicked, as his hips follow Shiro's movement, almost desperate. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Don't go," he whimpers, pleading, twisting to reach back and place his hand on Shiro's arm. He looks back at him, watches the way Shiro's eyes widen, the way he gulps. He looks so disheveled like this, his clothes ruffled and so opposite to the way Keith is used to seeing him. Keith loves him even more, like this. "Can we just...stay right like this? Just for a bit?" </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You sure? I don't want you to be uncomfortable, Keith." </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Keith squeezes Shiro's arm, then closes his eyes. He tightens his muscles, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>feels</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He hears the way Shiro hisses, and that same little smile from before works it's way back onto his face. "Yeah. Yeah, this is perfect, Shiro." </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Okay." Shiro moves, but not away again. Keith feels a soft kiss against his cheek, then Shiro's strong arms wrap around him as he repositions them. Shiro shifts them until they're lying properly on the couch with Shiro squished between the back and Keith. His arms tighten around Keith's middle, and Keith is pulled tight against a firm chest. Shiro's hips press flush against him, the zip of his jeans catching against Keith's ass as he pushes further inside him once more. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Keith sighs happily, laying an arm across Shiro's to intertwine their fingers. He feels perfect like this, protected and loved blanketed by Shiro's warmth. Everything he’s ever wanted, he finally has.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I love comments!! Here is <a href="url">my twitter</a>. (Also hoping I coded this right.)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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